I'm basic.
I like stuff. The good kind.
I’m spoiled.

You know, I have all the reasons in the world to be thankful and all the reasons int he universe to be happy. I shouldn’t find the need to bitch about how life is nor should I find the time to complain about pity things. But fuck that—- Fuck everything, seriously.
Within the past 4 days alone life has been making me its bitch, it’s been shitting on my face, shitting on my things, and shitting on everything except the designated shitting area. Seriously I understand that the human self is fragile like a porcelain figure but I never really thought about myself as the ultimate porcelain throne (aka the toilet). 

Last week was hell week, it was work, work, work, work, work work, and believe it or not more work. But I love my job—- I seriously love it with my entire being and its the sole reason why I wake up in the morning and look forward to dragging my ass out of bed and putting on some artsy fartsy outfit to express my “original” individualism. I loved last week, last week was amazing. It was orientation week in which I finally had to step up to the plate and act like an Assistant Manager for the first time. I mean see it this way— this entire Summer I’ve been trippin’ that these designers (aka these people who were basically my age) wouldn’t take me seriously  because I was their age and because I’m not some super cool hot shot upperclassman. But, long story short I love my job and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’d like to thank Andy for that and I’m sure he’d say the same. 

(insert transition/segway here)

I lost my wallet the other on the bus. It literally had everything in it. 
Think about what’s in your wallet right now at this very moment—- I’m not being materialistic or greedy or anything of that manner but just think about what your wallet holds especially if you live in a big city. 

I lost everything. My wallet, my driver’s license, my (fake) id, my insurance card, my school id, $30 in cash, my bus pass, my debit card, my underwear stickers. Everything. And foolishly I’ve been telling myself over and over it’s OK, but newsflash it’s really not OK. I’m not OK with this and thinking back to how I reacted I’m stupid for trying to lie to myself by saying “things could be worse.. I could’ve been mugged or robbed”. On top of that I walked 2 miles to the bank and then and there they couldn’t issue me a temp card due to the fact that I didn’t have a license or any sort or government issued identification. So currently at the moment I have no identity… I am a lone wold in this lonely world. I even started crying out of frustration in front of those nice bank people. I cried. hard

So later on in that day after that whole scene I went to get my school id card replaced and waited for 2.5 hours in line holding back my tears and called my mom assuring her that I had everything in control (lawl). It took longer than expected and at this point in the day I was about to faint out of physical and emotional exhaustion.

((fast forward to after getting my school id))

I went back to work and Andy knew everything that I was going through because he’s Andy and he just knew… He gets me.
I put my stuff down in silence in the office and he asked “Are you okay?”
I just looked at him and said “I’m just going to go to the restroom and cry this out for a bit”. He looked at me with this sorry look on his face and was about to give me an “everything will be alright” hug but I didn’t want the entire floor to see me sob. Yeah I know I’m a wuss. Fuck it. Seriously.

OH YEAH—- My school schedule also got completely fucked in the butt today because I had to drop a class and I’m missing a unit due to (1) ignorance and (2) an improper labeling of core curriculum. Thanks History of Pop Culture—- I spent half of my paycheck to you but now I have to send back those 6 books to some place in Milwaukee or Kalamazoo. So as I sit here in my office I am officially behind in school. Hear that Summer/Winter Session? I am being hand-cuffed to your balls. 

BUT——This was just the tip of the ice berg. This wasn’t even why I felt like life’s bitch. Ever since I moved up here I’ve just been displeased with myself, and I have this whole internal conflict and image issue gnawing away at my body. I’m killing myself and I know it. I can literally feel myself dying and its too engraved in my brain to get rid of it. People tell me it’s easy to appreciate the small things and I’ll admit I am completely at fault here because I don’t practice what I preach. 
I tell Andy all the time how amazing of a person he his, and how talented he is, and how deserving, and trustworthy, and awesome, and great, and wonderful, and caring, and hardworking, and how beautiful he is. I find it easy for me to tell him all of this to his face with this whole-hearted honesty that I’ve never spoken with before—- But I can’t tell myself that I’m amazing, talented, deserving, trustworthy, awesome, great, wonderful, caring, hardworking, or beautiful. Why? Because if I do—- It wouldn’t make any difference to me. 

I’m a bad friend. I’m a shitty friend and I know it—- I’m sorry for dropping off of the face of the earth but seeing where I am now I can’t do anything about it. I’m literally killing myself and I’m choking on all of the things that I’ve bitten off. I’m gnawing away but greediness and gluttony just keeps on putting more and more on my plate. Not only am I shit friend, but I’m a shit roommate/friend to everyone in front of me up here. I don’t want to give people my whole “I’m slipping into a shitty place” explanation so I just try to avoid actually talking about how I really feel and how I really am not “good” or “fine” or some other bullshit. They don’t deserve to waste their time of day mending my fleeting soul—- They’re good people and deserve to spend their time being progressive. I’m tired. I’m just a mess. 

I’m just so spoiled. It’s sickening. 
I have this amount of blessings and I’m busy worrying about pity things and how shit my life is. I’m just spoiled. I hate it. 

But with that said. 
I’m still alive and kicking. Hi Tumblr—- It’s been sometime. I’m not dead. Don’t worry about me. 

nineteen-fifty-four:

Leonard Bernstein and his daughter at a Beatles concert, 1965.

eugenialoli:

Expulsion from Grace" by Eugenia Loli.

Gallery | Shop | Tumblr | Flickr | Facebook

dresquiat:

jerrielzapata:

d5nielle:

first i was like huh what willow smith

then i was like hUH WHAT WILLOW sMITH?!?!?!??

she understands… I’m breath taken by this.

So dope

386,484 plays

fer1972:

Clever Fold-out Greeting Cards by Heather Abbot (on etsy)

nevver:

Not my type

nevver:

Leave me, Andre Elliott

Eartha Kitt in Amsterdam, 1962

historicaltimes:

Female firefighters during a training exercise at the Pearl Harbor shipyard, Hawaii, 1941-46 -

fewthistle:

Playing the Blues. South Side, Chicago. 1946.

Photographer: Wayne Miller

thealy50:

Built to endure.

fortunecookied:

Adventures of Superman (1952-58) was the first television series to feature Superman, with George Reeves as the titular hero

newyorker:

Paul Graham visits the Garry Winogrand retrospective at the Met: http://nyr.kr/1mI66Sa

“I love that nothing stopped Garry ethically. You’re not supposed to photograph panhandlers, someone who suffers from dwarfism, or leer at beautiful strange women. He’d just put out his lens and do it.”

Top: El Morocco, New York, 1955. Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Middle: Coney Island, New York, circa 1952. Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Bottom: Untitled (Location Unknown), 1963. From the estate of Garry Winogrand, courtesy of Fraenkel Gallery, San Francisco.

adelphe:

Humphrey Bogart

Bogart’s Face, 1970

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